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After a while, Karen came back. She was carrying a book, apple and bottle of soda. She spread out a blanket on a pile of hay and laid down to read her book, and eat her apple. I wasn't hungry but my mouth felt like the Sahara desert. The gag must have absorbed all my saliva. Karen continued to read her book and every once in a while took a drink from her soda. I mewled through my gag every once in a while but she ignored me. After a couple of hours, she put down her book and approached me. She. Too much sex. Too much. Altogether too much. It was all the talk about Fanderpeice and about his sexual prowess, the distant rumors about orgies, the non-specific hints of wild parties and, maybe, the fact that Jane had been without sex for a long time now. Oh, she had hooked up with an old friend while she was in Paris, but she had been on a tight schedule that was only for one night, well, really, only for a few minutes of one night, and if it had led to an orgasm, she had missed it. She. Soon it was standing upright and stiff pointing toward the sky. Then the milking collar began to pulse. I had not expected that. A sentence of milking was supposed to be four cycles of ejaculation and torment. It was barely past nine forty-five. The next milking cycle shouldn't begin until noon, and yet the milking collar was taking me closer and closer to climax. I was almost there when all of the stimulation rings of the collar suddenly inflated fully. It was like my cock was in a vise. I. She told me to close the door. She then grabbed my hair and pulled me to her face. With that, she kissed me forcefully. I did not resist. We kissed for what was seemed like forever. Then, she pushed me on the chair and knelt in front of me. She unhooked my trousers, brought down my boxers, and caught hold of my dick, which was already hard.“Just as I expected. It has grown,” She said as she critically examined my dick. “All the working out is paying off.” With that, she began stroking my.
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